Someone Else Entirely
by NeonCharlie
Summary: There's a new Demon Slayer around town, and with her a day that just gets odder and odder. Something is about to go down, but Giles isn't quite sure what.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: I don't own BtVS. I'm too scared to.

* * *

'Huh. What's this in my right hand? Silky, long, thick… And underneath it—oh. What is that? Supple, smooth, slightly malleable, round, and familiar. It feels nice. Ohp, seems as if my hand's a mind of its own (a moan purred that he was sure didn't come from him)… Perhaps I should check upon the mischief my hand's making.'

When Rupert Giles' eyes grated open, all he saw was fuzz. Fuzz and different colours that mixed and meshed together and apart, drunkenly spinning all around his fuzz-filled eyes lodged in his fuzz-filled head. After a while of lethargic blinking, those colours sharpened and turned into shapes, which eventually turned into images.  
Blonde hair. Long blonde hair. Long pretty blonde hair. And breasts. Small breasts. Small pretty breasts.  
Wait a moment. What young blonde lady did he know with long hair and small, nice, firm br—(not the point, Rupert).

Shit.

He shot across the loft in two leaps, blue striped pajama pants sagging dangerously. He struggled to tie the two suddenly paper thin and rather slippery adjusting string ends, large hands fumbling about his pants in haste.

He heard his bed creak in protest as a small body rose from the white linen sheets, and oh dear lord, he was going to get it now, how could he have violated she that trusted him the most and not remember, why couldn't he remember, he had never been so drunk that he'd forgotten a night spent with a partner and oh god, she was creeping toward him now and here comes that hard slap and oh god how could he betray them like this and just oh god oh god oh god—

"Mmm, you look like you're having a bit of trouble there, dear... Let me help," a buttery purr reached his ears.

A buttery purr that he knew, without a doubt in his mind, did not belong to one of his Scoobies.  
He nearly dropped his garments in relief.

After he had properly tied the two ends, he looked to the unfamiliar voice and proved that this was not in fact any of his. She was small, yes, with long blonde hair. But her face was a bit too long, cheek bones a tad too low, eyes a smidgen too dark. Close though, close enough to fool him for a split second.

He stared.

What the hell did he do last night?  
He blinked a couple of times, wondering why he was so out of sorts today.  
'P-perhaps it's a Hellmouth thing… I should check the Watcher Diaries, maybe Jonathon Dawson, he lived near the Hellmouth, didn't he? Damn, I believe the Council had that volume in their possession…'

"Maybe I'd better get going, Ripper… You have my number. Call me, 'kay?" she withdrew after sensing his reluctance and moved about the loft to find her garments.

'Ripper…?'

* * *

Six or seven hours later, the late afternoon sun shone into his apartment, kissing the tops of voluminous books placed haphazardly on the floor. He cradled his "Kiss the Librarian" mug of Earl Grey, flipping through the brittle and yellowed pages of Jonathon Dawson's Watcher diary, frowning and occasionally scribbling something down on a pad of paper. He murmured distractedly and bit down on the end of his glasses when the doorbell rang.

He looked up quickly, knowing it wasn't his Scoobies or Olivia. His mouth tipped downward, rising quietly and taking from his desk a letter opener. With the day he was having, he wouldn't be surprised if it was an apocalypse he had somehow missed. Sliding out of his chair, he was thankful for his years of rebellion granting him practiced stealth. He checked the window from an angle and couldn't see a face. His jaw hardened and he placed the letter opener in his back pocket. He moved to open the door and meet this unknown guest face to face.

"Hi. I'm Jamie, the demon slayer. I believe you and I have a problem, Mister Giles."

She was tall, with at least a couple of inches on Willow and Buffy. She was slender, too, with long, raven black, lightly wavy tresses that fell to her midsection. She had a smooth and incredibly light complexion and full, healthy pink lips that fell neatly underneath a delicately sculpted nose, and dark and formed eyebrows all resting upon an elegant and tapered jaw that was upheld by a slender neck. Most alluring, however, were her shockingly light grey and Alice blue eyes framed by thick lashes. She wasn't thin, but she wasn't heavy set either. It was a wonderful medium. She wore a plain electric blue halter top that hugged her body, not so tight that it was immodest, and jeans paired with ballet slippers.

For a fleeting moment, Giles compared her to an upper-crust version of Faith.

He gestured in instead of a verbal invite, creating an unspoken and preliminary test.

"It's daytime, Mr. Giles," she reminded him with a smirk as she stepped inside his humble abode. "I'm insulted that you think I'd be lying."

'Hmm. She's from the Mother Country… That accent is clipped, elegant… Absolutely British.'  
He merely shrugged and made a quick trip to the kitchen, asking for her tea of choice.

"Anyway, I've come concerning certain demon. I heard through the grapevine that you were the Watcher to visit. Apparently you actually believe in the greater good, despite the ponces you work for. " she stopped, beginning to convulse.

It started with her lips. They quivered and shook, silencing the words that died in her throat. Her head jerked violently backward, eyes glazing over as her entire body throbbed and pulsed, tensing one, two, and three hard times. And all at once, it was over. Her body slumped unceremoniously to the hard ground, limp and unconscious.

He carried her to his couch, frowning to himself as he felt her pulse. He busied himself over her, grabbing a damp towel to dab the beaded sweat from her pallid forehead.  
Her eyes fluttered open.

"I'm s-sorry… I get epileptic seizures," she whispered as she trembled in cold sweat. Jamie mopped the liquid exhaustion from her face and arms, not seeing the raised eyebrow on the Watcher's face.

"Is… Is there somewhere we can go, maybe a coffee shop or something? It'd be an understatement if I said I was famished," she whispered and gulped, eyes darting frantically about as her breathing shallowed ever so slightly.

He nodded, a million thoughts rushing through his huge expanse of a mind. He held a hand to her and let her clutch him with a death grip as she clawed her way up to a standing position.

"Thanks," she croaked, and he followed her out as he waded knee deep in questions.

'Epilepsy? I very much doubt symptoms of epilepsy include glowing with a celestial light through the eyes, nose and mouth.'


	2. Demon A LA Carte

Disclaimers: You know the rules. I own nothing except my imagination and Jamie.

* * *

Night had stolen across the sky as he trundled along in his red little tramp, and the seemingly quaint ('ha') streets of little Sunnydale hummed an intimately quiet, dangerous song that only he and Willow seemed to hear.

Oh Willow, that sweet Wiccan with such determination. She had blossomed into a mature adult, no longer the small, mousy girl who had library sleepovers with whom she teasingly deemed her 'Stud Study Bud.' As happy as he was that all his Scoobies matured, there were times when he sorely missed the adolescent high school students that pranced about his flat.

He pulled up to a street side cafe that won the favor of his younger companions, parking his red tramp. He helped the other Slayer out of his car, seeing her still pale and fragile state. She smiled gratefully at his polite nature, following him inside the warm little coffee shop.

They seated themselves at a tall table with barstools for chairs, ordering tea and coffee.

* * *

Jamie felt the sweat forming on her forehead as her breathing laboured and throat itched. She stood, the stool's legs scratching the tile in protest, cupping a hand over her mouth as the room began to spin and her stomach began to twist. She darted for the lady's room, offering no explanation to the Watcher. Her feet felt heavy against the patterned tile and she pushed the door open with a heave.

She hovered over the sink, wondering what the hell was happening to her.

"This wasn't part of the job description," she murmured to herself, a shaking hand on her pallid forehead. She closed her eyes, pained."Talb must've missed a few words when translating the proph-"

If the door's creak behind her didn't alert her of a new presence, then the calloused and slender hands clamping her mouth definitely did.

She hissed as she felt the edge of something very, very sharp against her neck.

She kept her eyes closed, shivering in disgust at the smell of heady brandy and cigarettes.

"Listen, Sweetheart, I'm not here to slit any throats. I'm here because a certain gentleman wants you, and if you mention anything about it to your little buddy out there or put up a bit of a fight, I'm allowed a couple" she slid what felt like a dagger edge upward against Jamie's throat and to her cheek, red beads springing up in an even line, "accidents. So let's just be a good girlie, 'kay?"

Jamie opened her eyes to glare menacingly at the surprisingly small blonde with a buttery purr.

"And just where are we going?" she growled flatly.

"If I told you, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?"

The blonde pressed her blade a bit harder against jaw, making a threat she couldn't ignore.

Yet another demon she had to dispose of.

The Demon Slayer placed a sharp kick to the other's shin, grabbing the hand wielding the dagger as she span out of the deathly grasp. She sent the hand to the floor with a hard throw, the brute force toppling the assassin. Jamie placed her foot firmly over the white wrist and her right hand hard over its neck.

Not a vampire. No super strength or game face.

"Scream and I'll kill you. Who do you work for?"

The writhing thing stilled and hissed "No-one. I am my own!" she declared.

Jamie rolled her eyes and scooped her foot underneath the foot, moving upward so she caught it in her left hand. Her right hand stayed above the blonde's neck to keep her from standing. She placed her left foot on its captured and suspended arm and brought it down with a crack.

It let out a strangled screech in pain.

She grabbed the dagger laying on the floor when she noticed the edge shined a bit too brightly. She sniffed it. Poisoned. Of bloody course. Now she'd have to get disinfected.

"Let's try that again. Who do you work for?"

"I shall never betray my love!" it growled.

It has feelings? Not a vengeance demon.

She rolled her eyes. This one wasn't going to give her any answers. She broke both its legs, covering its mouth so it couldn't scream. She hauled the one unbroken appendage over her shoulder and checked the cafe.

No-one but the Watcher checking his watch with a slightly raised eyebrow.

She dragged it out of the little girl's room.

"This one tried to kill me with a poisoned dagger, Watcher, so I broke both of its legs and its arm. I can't stake it; it hasn't the powers of a vengeance, the face of a Polygara, or the superhuman strength of a vampire. Although it does have the stupid of one," she snorted as she strode out, hoping none of the staff would see.

He stood quickly.

"So I take it you're feeling better?" he smirked.

"Much better, thank you."


	3. Fallen Angels pt 1

Disclaimers: I own (to my regret) nothing.

**A/N**:'M sorry it's so ridiculously short, luvs. But you know what makes me write more? Reviews. Lots of reviews. Reviews make Neon happeee. You want to make Neon happy, right? Because, well... Neon yur fwend.

* * *

They didn't want it in too much pain, but Jamie also didn't want any blood on the floor of the cafe, so they dragged it to a deserted alley (of which there were many; mostly likely the late Mayor's handiwork).

The walls were covered with a green sort of slime and a damp sort of stench that was practically visible.

She dumped it on the grimy pavement, it's tousled hair dirtied and soiled.

"Let's see if this poison works on demons, eh?" she snickered as she plunged the dagger into its body.

She felt the blade sink into soft flesh and between brittle bones, its heart beating wildly with adrenaline. Red soldiers of blood seeped from the gaping puncture, spreading a web of liquid life force across a white blouse, dampening the cloth with a thickness that was unlike any other, sticking to the dying thing as it drew its last breaths, quickened by the toxins in the air and in its blood.

Its eyes glazed over with a milky haze, fiery blue dulled to a lifeless grey as its last word left its lips.

"Demon...?"

She stared at the dark smudges on her hands, grey-blue eyes widening with the overwhelming tangle of shock, guilt and denial of her feelings.

"What is it? What's wrong?"  
He stepped nearer, seeing her horrified expression.

She stared unseeingly at him.

"She was human."

He stopped to get a better view of the corpse, brushing her matted hair back to her face.

He stared, bewildered.

He knew that face. In fact, the same one had been in his bed that very morning.


End file.
